


Delirium

by DanseMacabres



Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: Date Night, Dom/sub Undertones, F/F, Flogging, Mentions of Het Sex, Miranda/Stephen (Referenced), Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex Toys, Strap-Ons, submissive Miranda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:48:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25882333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DanseMacabres/pseuds/DanseMacabres
Summary: I suck at these. It's 4k words just read it, please!Apart from that, well what can I say, PwP with certain glimpses of rumination from Andy's side and realization from Miranda's.Plot : Miranda is late for their date night and gets exactly what she deserves.
Relationships: Miranda Priestly/Andrea Sachs, Miranda Priestly/Stephen Tomlinson
Comments: 12
Kudos: 169
Collections: 5sk





	Delirium

**Author's Note:**

> A/N 1: As always, the standard disclaimers about none of the characters belonging to me yada yada apply. Personally though, you and I both know Miranda Priestly is Meryl Streep’s and hers only. Also, un-betaed, so all mistakes are mine (might be innumerable in number, given my attention span)
> 
> A/N 2: Random exercise in writing girl-on-girl kind of d/s sex scenes, totally with no first hand experience at it all, so forgive me in case I do a shitty job. In this house Miranda is a pure unhinged bottom, I mean with the amount of control and power she wields in boardroom meetings and fashion shows, she’s gotta give it up somewhere, and our Andy almost gets off from seeing that transformation. Also the language is f-i-l-t-h-y. Kiddies, stay away.
> 
> A/N 3: Canon divergent, in which, Stephen re-thinks the divorce and Andy does not leave after Paris. 
> 
> A/N 4: This is just an experience in what-the-bejesus-fuck with almost no plotline whatsoever, warning you from before.

_“My wish is that you may be loved to the point of madness.”_

― André Breton, What Is Surrealism?: Selected Writings

3 months, 9 days post Paris Fashion Week

Andy’s newly renovated living room

Still the Lower Eastside

Friday, 11:53 pm

The sound of the glowing amber liquid being poured from the newly acquired crystal decanter fills the room as Andy swirls it around her glass and looks at the grandfather clock at the corner of her living room for the umpteenth time.

She takes a quick glance around her apartment as sips on the whiskey; letting the liquid burn her throat with the familiar taste. She likes how her space is turning out – minimalistic with nice clean edges and spot of extravagance (like the grandfather clock) here and there. Now that Nate is gone, it’s easy to do up the space the way she wants it, well the way they both want it – her and Miranda. Or so she thinks.

Miranda, who has been spending a decent proportion of her waking hours in Andy’s crummy apartment. Miranda who Andy has been waiting for, for the past two hours. Waiting -- still wearing her work clothes – a mauve patterned Pucci silk blouse and a sable high rise flare legs pants and – and of course the harness and strap on between her legs per Miranda’s request (which she had purred into Andy’s pussy the previous night while eating her out).

All day long Miranda had stared and stared some more at the bulge in Andy’s pants (which thankfully she had managed to hide from the rest of the crew) and every time Miranda had looked she had felt her pussy clench from imagining visions of Miranda impaled on it.

She can’t quite pinpoint the day when all of this – whatever it is, started but it was the week after Paris, the lull, and Miranda was on a mending spree – where Andy was breaking up with Nate over coffee Miranda was busy satisfying Stephen in bed, cooking for the twins and apparently trying to win back Andy’s approval and somewhere along the line, the way to win it back had greyed and turned to something so forbidden and sexual.

Miranda had seen the hunger in Andy’s eyes and leapt at the opportunity; luring and seducing her – soft little arm brushes, seductive lip bites, soft little moans while sipping on her extra dose of espresso and Andy was a goner – feeling like a sex-deprived horny teenage boy. 

Then one night Miranda had taken it too far – called Andy over to the townhouse (when the twins were conveniently “at their father’s” and Stephen was “in Tunis”) and opened the door wearing just a scandalously short white silk peignoir hugging all her curves, showing off her pebbled nipples underneath. That her been her undoing; Andy remembers each and every detail of Miranda from that night – her scent, the way her eyes rolled back in pleasure, her lewd moans, her copious wetness, everything all mixed up together. What she remembers most though was the way Miranda had given herself up so completely to Andrea – as if to make up for all the control she wielded over Andy during her workdays.

It had been a rollercoaster since then.

Of course it wasn’t the most ideal arrangement – Miranda was still very married (to the scumbag of course) and they never said “I Love You’s” to each other and Andy never saw Miranda in the morning light snoring across from her in bed, because, well, this wasn’t a relationship.

This was carnal, or so she told herself. Because the sex, oh God the sex - for now that would have to be enough.

The more they slept together the more Andy marveled at dichotomy of the professional and personal Miranda. While the professional Miranda was a feral lion commanding boardrooms and squelching incompetency under her Prada heels, the Miranda she fucked seven ways from Sunday was a docile little darling who loved to be purr and moan and spread herself in submission.

Andy soon came to the realization that she loved this dynamic herself, this complete possession of each other during the day and night. She had never explored anything quite similar with Nate (because let’s face it their sex life was as vanilla as Ben & Jerry’s ice cream) but she had plunged herself face first (pun of course intended) into an education on BDSM, specifically all of Miranda’s switches and soon she was pleasuring Miranda to the point where she could hardly walk the next day – the site of which made her want to fuck her even some more. Three months in and they had developed something so forbidden, so decadent, so maddening it scared Andy from time to time. But she had learnt to push all of those thoughts away and focus on the now.

However, her current now had her all kinds of charged up, sexually frustrated and angry. Damn Miranda for giving her blue balls. Damn Miranda for being late (as usual, oh what a revelation). Damn Miranda for having a husband. Damn Miranda ----

The buzzer rings as Andy almost stumbles too hastily to press the button and unlock the main door feeling the strap on rubbing against her thighs. Tonight was originally going to be about rewarding Miranda but with this now – all the wait Andy had to endure it would have to turn into punishment – because surely that is what Miranda deserves – she doesn’t deserve to be filled up by the ten inch strap on rubbing between her legs.

Andy uses all her liquid courage to steel herself up as she opens the door just in time to see Miranda ascend the second flight of stairs. And just like that, in a moment her resolves ebbs away as her heart literally makes a physical swoop at the image of Miranda’s seductive climb. She’s of course changed her clothes – a black short trench coat of sorts buttoned all the way up and blood red Louboutin’s and Andy wants nothing but to take her on the floor right then and there, but instead she storms forward yanking Miranda by the arm making the older release loose a small yelp before pulling her into her apartment, slamming the door shut and pinning Miranda against it – their eyes staring into each other’s filled with lust and desire and something akin to delirium.

“You’re late.” Andy growls making Miranda release a sigh as she nods and bites her lips,

“What are you going to do about it, Andrea.” Miranda dares, of-fucking-course.

“What I am going to do is make you learn a fucking lesson for making me wait with this on all day long” Andy whispers as she tugs at Miranda’s hand making her stroke the bulge in her pants which makes the older woman emit a soft moan.

“What I am going to do is make you realize what begging means” she says as she starts to unbutton the trench coat with a sense of urgency her pussy clenching seeing a hint of red lace sitting against Miranda’s cleavage before Miranda’s hand stops her making Andy’s head snap up. How dare she.

There is a slight flush to Miranda’s cheeks as she announces, “I—I need to clean up”

Andy’s eyes burrow in confusion before realization dawns and her eyes go wide while she unbuttons the rest of the coat to lay her eyes on the flimsy piece of red peignoir hugging Miranda’s curves, her nipples straining against it, “You fucked your husband like a common whore and that wasn’t enough that you’ve come up here for more even before his cum dried up in your cunt” Andy whispers in disgust into Miranda’s ears before she cups her pussy over the satin and rubs it making Miranda’s eyes flutter as she whimpers and nods.

“Y—yes, I—we were in the car, I had to see him off at the airport I—didn’t want to get more late” Miranda blushes and stutters in the most un-Mirandaesque manner while Andy stares down and rubs her pussy more.

Miranda’s eyes flutter as she leans forward to kiss Andy who instead bites down on her lips and nips at her neck roughly – damn any rules of not leaving neck bruises when the bastard Stephen can leave some.

She looks up, face scrunched up, “You smell like the filthy bastard, go clean up and don’t bother with the peignoir or anything.” Andy hisses, anger and need and want all of it coursing through veins as her palms clench and unclench.

Damn Miranda. Damn Miranda because in spite of all this show of submission she does, Miranda is still the one wielding the power – fucking whoever she wants to, whenever and driving Andy delirious with need and jealously and anger – evoking emotions in her she never knew existed. For a moment, her mind drifts to Stephen as she looks at Miranda walk away towards the bedroom hips swaying, did Stephen know his wife was fucking herself into oblivion when he wasn’t around, did Stephen feel the same way she did.

Damn her, and damn Stephen and damn fucking Miranda. She was going to make her pay tonight.

12:20 am

Andy’s still slightly crummy bedroom

Andy stalks the bedroom having laid out everything on the bed – all their brand-new sex toys (acquired using a huge portion of Andy’s monthly salary and not Miranda’s, surprise surprise) waiting for Miranda to exit the en-suite bathroom, it’s too much now – the want, the need – the

The bathroom door opens revealing a towel clad Miranda, hair slightly mussy and blow-dried, skin still the most beautiful shade of baby pink, face all dewy and still half wet without a stitch of makeup as her eyes fall on the different sex toys on the bed making them glazing over.

“Off, the towel” Andy commands as Miranda tears her eyes away from the bed and slowly lets the towel fall to the floor, her soft pink blush creeping up her neck and chin to her beautiful high cheekbones, as Andy’s eyes travel slowly down her body while she stalks closer and closer until she’s invading Miranda’s private space.

Without her Louboutin heels to her rescue Miranda is a good three inches shorter as Andy looks down and whispers against her ear, “Wanton little slut, aren’t you, are you ready for your punishment?” before revealing the red silk blindfold in her hand as she reaches to securely tie to around Miranda’s eyes before Miranda can even respond.

“No, no, that wasn’t a question” Andy retorts in the all familiar Miranda tone as she stands back to scan the older woman’s body – lips pink and pouty - waiting to kissed, bitten, followed by skin so fine and porcelain like along her neck where the slightest nip, the slightest brush leaves behind a mark (Andy’s blood boils to see the hints of a few old and a few fresh bruises, knowing she’s not the one to leave them there), and then Andy’s favorite - proud firm breasts with pebbled coral nipples sitting pretty making her own sex clench and stop her scan so she can instead bend down to take a nipple in her mouth which tears a strangled gasp from the older woman’s mouth, making her tremble, but Andy’s not in the mood to please even as she reaches down to rub the older woman’s bare clit and pussy – already leaking juices while she bites down on the swollen nipple tearing a louder, lewd moan, making Miranda arch before she gives it a final lick and lets go, making the other woman whine at the loss.

“Such a princess brat, aren’t you?” Andy whispers against her ear as she steps away to pick up the flogger from the bed while the older woman tries to gauge her partner’s next steps. Andy’s learnt the tricks, the swift, nimble moves along the carpeted floor (so much easier without those fucking work heels) as she takes both of Miranda’s hands and turns her, pinning her face first against the wall.

Then without warning, the flogger comes down across the impossibly soft, firm asscheeks making them glow red and hot while Miranda whimpers and presses her legs together feeling her entire body tingle with need – for more. They come down rhythmically over and over now.

“Count with me, we’ll give you fifteen tonight - five for you being late, five for smelling like that old bastard and five for having the audacity to fuck him right before you came in here, remember the safe word slut.” Andy enunciates each word and sniggers as Miranda pants and counts each flogging, moisture pooling between her legs as it leaks down her thighs, the room filling with the sound of strangled sobs and shudders her body thrumming, ass in the air red with little swollen welts across them.

The flogging finally stops as Miranda leans with her left forearm against the wall, her heading resting against it while Andy strokes the red hot skin making Miranda shudder again before she reaches to the front and gropes her breasts pressing her body against Miranda – the strap on rubbing between her abused asscheeks.

“P---please” Miranda begs.

“Please what, princess” Andy whispers as she nips Miranda’s ear and squeezes her breasts.

“Please fuck me” Miranda begs again. Andy marvels yet again at these miracles of the universe before she twists both nipples in her hands and squeezes her breasts making Miranda arch into her, knowing she’s this close to cumming, Andy’s own sex clenching, around the double sided dildo, “You dare not cum, or else we both know the price.” The price being more flogging, although Andy feels Miranda might cum on purpose just to get flogged a little more. Andy knows all the tricks now and the worst is, the more she sees Miranda this way the more dare she say – she falls in love. She can hardly control herself, seeing Miranda this way arouses her too much more than it should. She wants to know if Miranda feels the same way too -does seeing Andy so in charge arouse her as well.

For moment Andy wants to see the need and want and whirlpool of emotions in Miranda’s eyes but she knows this is even better, the way Miranda writhes like a new leaf and is so attentive to every next movement of Andy’s, those gasps when she doesn’t expect what’s coming next, it’s more than enough Andy thinks as she unzips her pants and rubs the skin color silicone dildo one more time before she orders, “Go lay back against the bed” while she steps out of her pants and unbuttons her blouse, leaving her in her Agent Provocateur bra and strap on.

Miranda walks almost painfully her ass swaying as she stumbles, hands trying to grasp onto anything in front as she makes her way towards the bed the best she can given the blindfold.

Andy covers the distance in two strides as she drags Miranda the rest of the distance before throwing her onto the bed, the older woman gasping, looking up to figure out Andy’s exact position and next move. Within a moment’s notice Andy is over her edging her towards the headboard of the bed before she yanks an arm and ties it against the carving of the bed using none other than an Hermes scarf (provided to her by the woman being tied up with it), before she mirrors the same action with the other arm as well.

“DON’T.YOU.DARE.CUM” Andy hisses again seeing the way Miranda’s body struggles and wriggles against the restraints, her legs spread, toes curling as she digs her heels into the silk bedsheets.

“Mhmm, you’d cum if I even flicked your swollen little clit or maybe licked your pussy just a wee bit or—or maybe,” Andy reaches up and rubs a nipple before twisting it with her finger and right on cue Miranda’s back arches as her pussy gushes out juices while she screams and pants.

Andy doesn’t give Miranda time to recover before she brings down the flogger across her breasts making the older woman cry out, “I asked not to cum, didn’t I, brat?” Miranda is too far gone to respond as her pussy keeps clenchingand cumming all over even without Andy’s having to touch her down there, her face blushing furiously red at the embarrassment of it.

“Answer me, NOW” Andy presses as Miranda nods, “S—so—oryyyy, I---I, ohhhh pleaseeee” Miranda begs struggling at the restraints as she thrusts her body against Andy wanting to feel more of the warmth of Andy’s skin.

Andy reaches down and rubs her swollen nub before rubbing her soaked pussy and sensitive lips, “God you’re such a slut.” Miranda doesn’t even deny as she keeps nodding and gasping for more, “Pleaseee”

Andy rubs the tip of the strap on at the entrance of Miranda’s core while the older woman thrusts against it, “You are lucky I need to cum as well, otherwise you wouldn’t be getting even an inch of this dildo tonight” (of course, what a lie) Andy hisses as she reaches behind Miranda’s head to undo the blindfold.

Miranda’s eyes flutter before going wide as she looks straight up to Andy who’s coaxing these tiny little moans from her throat as she rubs the tip along her pussy before Andy smiles, “I wanted to see the look on your face while I fucked you” Andy bends down to kiss the older woman’s lips, their tongues battling for dominance for only a split second before Andy thrusts into Miranda, all the way in without warning, her pussy juices anointing all over the fake cock as it clenches around it, clamping down on it, making Miranda lose all sense of coherence – her palms and toes clenching and unclenching as she arches against Andy.

Their bodies rubbing against each other as Andy slowly builds up the pace while she kisses and sucks down Miranda’s body her hands scratching Miranda’s back while the older woman wraps her legs around Andy’s ass pushing her as deep into her body as possible, the other side of the dildo, pushes deep into Andy’s core as well as she thrusts relentlessly into the older woman her own orgasm building up to a crescendo. The older woman can only gasp and pant her body writhing and sweating underneath as Andy’s alternates between kissing and nipping her everywhere and marveling at her handiwork – the older woman’s breasts rise and fall rhythmically with every thrust – nipples taut, hard and swollen, breasts and neck red and hot, some bruises already forming around her neck as this all encompassing feeling, fills Andy with this need to possess Miranda, fill her up like that bastard did and for one moment she curses her fate for not having a real cock, so instead she rams into her manically, their bodies slapping against each other as she feels her orgasm building while she reaches down to rub Miranda’s swollen nub making the older woman start to cum, again while she shudders and gasps and groans, Mirada’s pussy flooding the bed and cock in juices, “N—nooooo s—stop, no more” Miranda moans as Andy looks down at the flushed, well used body of her lover - making her own orgasm reach a peak as she cums too groaning into Miranda’s neck, both of their bodies sticky with sweat as she slumps against her.

The older woman whines underneath as her legs relax against her back, while they come down from their mutual high. Andy peppers soft neck kisses alongside those very rough ones from before, slowly licking the blooming bruises before she reaches up to capture Miranda’s lip in a kiss but stops short as she sees a trail of tears leaking down the sides of Miranda’s temples.

All of Andy’s afterhaze disappears as she curses herself, thinking it’s her – that she’s gone ahead and done it, been too rough and hurt Miranda, “Oh my God Miranda, did I hurt you” she exclaims as she eases herself out of Miranda and makes quick work of undoing the silk scarves around the older woman’s wrist which are now colored an angry red, “I am so so so sorry, Miranda.”

As soon as Miranda’s hands are free, she wraps them around Andy’s shoulders and shakes her head over and over, but the tears don’t stop as Andy feels more and more helpless and confused searching for something in Miranda’s eyes which are a whirlpool of emotions.

“Silly girl, you’ve ruined me.” Miranda admits almost in a defeated tone as she pulls down Andy’s head and kisses her squarely on the lips before pulling her further down to bury her head in Andy’s hair as she keeps stroking her back and hair murmuring “thank yous” over “thanks yous” as if in a trance before she starts to pass out slowly.

Andy doesn’t know the meaning of Miranda’s words, she’s still graduating from Miranda 101 but something in Miranda’s tone, something in her words makes Andy feel triumphant, delirious with joy.

She wants to carefully put away this memory - this voice, this image, this night with Miranda somewhere in one of the sacred places in her head because, this is enough, it has to be.

She doesn’t know what tomorrow holds but this – being here, getting to see a glimpse of the other woman at her most vulnerable, she makes a mental promise to herself to never take advantage of it for as long as she is given this lease of lo—whatever this is, for as long as the older woman decides to share herself with her.

Andy has no expectations, as she chuckles almost hysterically at the thought of how fucked up the entire arrangement is, the thought of how she’s falling so deep in love with the older woman that it is driving her insane and she’s scared she might not be able to let go when the time comes and who knows when it might come knocking at her door, but it’s not tonight and that’s solace enough she thinks as sleep claims her.

Nor is it tomorrow, she realizes, when she wakes up to the first rays of morning sunlight streaming into her bedroom and glinting off of the older woman’s silvery white hair, all mussed up against the satin pillows while the older woman dreams in another world.

It’s a beautiful, chilly morning and the form of Miranda still fast asleep on her bed, cocooned in the warmth of the sheets Andy had covered them in, fills her heart with equal parts pain and joy. This is the first time she has seen Miranda in her bed, in the morning light. And oh what a sight it is.

Maybe this is enough. Maybe there will be more. Maybe not. Maybe loving Miranda will always hurt. Maybe not.

Maybe.

Hope, by God, she had started to live on it too.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N 1 : Well, I told you, what-the-bejesus-fuck, right? However, in case you still liked it, leave me some kudos and comment, pretty please?!
> 
> A/N 2: Also to anyone who reads my other story 'Revendique'. I promise I haven't forgotten about it, it's just life takes over, but I will circle back to it, sooner than later.


End file.
